Come with me
by Jem Kallop
Summary: A desert night, and a discussion between two people that will determine the rest of their lives. Post-canon thiefshipping oneshot.


**Thiefshipping oneshot for someone's birthday (you know who you are 3). Plus, I needed a thiefshipping fluff fix xD. Set post-canon, hope you enjoy! – Jem**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! or these characters, Kazuki Takahashi does**

 **Written to 'I'm not calling you a liar' by Florence and the Machine.**

It was a quiet day in all ways but one.

The desert was empty, calm, and silent, but for the wind that occasionally ruffled the long stretches of sand, blowing them haphazardly around their feet. The sun was careering on its long, weary journey towards the horizon, painting the sky with oranges and yellows, staining the true blue with streaks of red. Shadows were beginning to stretch across the burnt orange sand. Darkness was lurking just around the corner, ready to swamp the desert in the depths of night. The distant city would soon begin to light up, adding a hazy glow to the night, but for now, the sky continued to darken, and the first few stars were just beginning to wink into sight.

The two figures standing on one of the dunes were glaring at each other.

The blond one, Marik, had his fists clenched by his sides and a deep crease furrowing his brow. His shoulders were tense; his expression set. Blond hair hung down to his shoulders, reflecting back the colour of the sand and the dying rays of the sun, but his violet eyes were hard.

The object of his fixation was about as much a contrast to him as it was possible to be. His skin was pale, eerily so, making him stick out like a thorn amongst petals amid the burnt colours of the desert. His smirk was arrogant, his arms folded easily. He looked perfectly content, and perfectly at home – indeed, as he was.

Marik continued to glare at him. "Are you seriously asking me this, Bakura?"

Bakura lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug, a smirk still playing lazily about his lips. "Only if you say yes."

Marik's jaw clenched. His violet eyes narrowed, his face settling into an expression of distaste and discomfort. It was _just like_ the thief to spring something like this on him, after all this time of silence. Marik was just beginning to think that he was never coming back when here he was again, standing in the flesh with that stupid smirk just the same as always. Marik was almost tempted to punch him.

Bakura arched one brow. "Is there a problem?"

"Yes!" Marik brandished a finger at him "Yes, there damn well is a problem!"

"What?" Bakura asked calmly.

"You! You just showing up back here and instantly assuming you can ask that?!"

"I fail to see the issue."

"Of course you do," Marik shot back scathingly. He crossed his arms in front of his body and _glared_ at Bakura, violet eyes flashing in the final dying rays of the sun.

Bakura stared back, his face as impassive as ever. His tone, when he spoke, however, echoed with just the beginnings of impatience. "So? Are you coming or not?"

"You can't just _ask_ me," Marik huffed out.

"I just did."

"Well you can't expect an answer as easy as that!" Marik glowered. "Not when you keep disappearing like this."

Bakura arched a brow. "That's kind of the point."

Marik hissed.

"It really isn't so difficult to grasp," Bakura smirked. "I'm asking you to accompany me when I 'disappear like this'."

Marik's jaw clicked. "And just where would we be going?"

"I don't know," Bakura shrugged, but his eyes lit up slightly. "Anywhere. Anywhere in the whole entire world."

Marik arched a brow. "Oh yes? And just how are you planning to fund this great adventure?"

"With your money," Bakura answered without missing a beat.

Marik couldn't help but snort. "Oh yeah, Ishizu and Odion would just love that."

"I don't really care what your siblings think."

"Clearly." Marik eyed Bakura closely, his brow creasing just a little. "And when my money runs out?"

Bakura shrugged again. "We'll get by."

"Mm." Marik kept his gaze stern, surveying Bakura with a knowing, searching gaze. "Will your methods always be legal?"

Bakura merely gave a dangerous smirk.

"I thought as much." Marik shook his head. "You're _impossible_ ; you know that, right?"

"It never seemed to bother you before."

"That was before." Marik clicked his tongue. "You know I'm supposed to be reformed now?"

Bakura snorted. "Please. The day you go straight is the day the desert freezes over."

Marik glared. "Why is it so hard for you to believe that I might actually _want_ to be good now?"

"Oh come on, Marik." Bakura took a step closer, his brown eyes burning and that wicked smirk playing around his lips again. "Don't feed me that rubbish. We _both_ know that my lifestyle interests you much more than your siblings'."

Marik made a face. He kept his tall body still, his eyes narrow as he watched Bakura move closer. He couldn't deny the tug in his stomach that still wriggled whenever he met Bakura's eyes, or the tiny part of his brain that whispered again and again how much _fun_ it was, to roam across the world, getting by in whatever ways they could manage…

"You know you want to come with me," Bakura continued in his low, alluring voice. He took another step nearer, almost totally in Marik's personal space now, and his brown eyes were fixed purely on Marik's face.

Marik glared back. "I have my siblings."

"You'll have me," Bakura shrugged.

Marik's glare didn't shift at all. "I'd have you if you stayed here, too."

Bakura's jaw clicked. He swung back on his heels, folding his arms again as he fixed Marik with a brutally honest stare. "I can't do that."

"You can't stay with me?" Marik arched a brow. "Why?"

"Too boring."

"Tell me the truth, Bakura."

It was Bakura's turn to glare. "Why?"

"You want me to come with you," Marik responded snappily, "Then I need to know everything."

They kept staring at each other for several long, silent moments, until Bakura finally tore his gaze away with a growl. He could tell he wasn't going to win this one. "Too close to home. I need to be _moving_."

Marik blinked at that. "Too close to home? What do you me… oh." He paused, his eyes colouring with recognition. He peered curiously closer to Bakura, taking in the thief's sudden reluctance to meet his eyes. Bakura was glaring in the opposite direction, his arms folded around his torso, his mouth set in a firm, thin line. Marik could guess at what he meant. Bakura's home was a village that had been destroyed in the ancient times of the Pharaoh. As the only survivor, Bakura was bound to associate trauma with this place, although he kept it so deeply buried that no one would ever guess as such.

Marik knew that feeling well.

"Alright." Marik finally continued, "So you can't stay here."

Bakura jerked his head in affirmation. His expression remained dim for half-a-second more before he turned his head back to Marik, and all trace of pain was gone from his face. Instead, he wore his familiar smirk, and the sardonic gleam lit his eyes again. "Which leaves you coming with me."

Marik folded his arms. "I still have my siblings here."

"We both know you hate it," Bakura snorted.

Marik glared. "I do not!"

"You do." Bakura's voice dropped to a low purr. "I've no doubt you love your siblings very much, especially that adopted brother of yours…"

"Odion was never 'adopted' in my eyes," Marik snapped.

"…But I know they don't give you your freedom," Bakura continued smoothly. "You always wanted to be free, didn't you? Isn't that why you broke out of the tomb?"

Marik glared. "Anyone would have broken out of that hell-hole."

"But they _didn't_ , Marik," Bakura enthused, taking yet another step closer and forcing Marik back onto his heels. " _Generations_ didn't. Your ancestors, always locked away in the darkness, hiding and moping and following the rules. _You_ changed that."

Marik blinked. His eyes widened.

"Something about _you_ is different." Bakura's voice had lowered to a breathy murmur by this point. The cold air of the desert night crisped at their arms, sending goosebumps rumbling up Marik's flesh as he stared into Bakura's deep brown gaze. "Do you think someone like you should escape, just to be trapped in a different kind of prison?"

Marik swallowed. His siblings weren't a prison. They loved him.

…They loved him, but they _did_ have ideas about what he should and shouldn't be doing. Ideas he didn't necessarily agree with. But he had already caused them so much pain, how could he ruin them again by leaving?

How could he hurt himself so much by staying?

Marik shook his head. His thoughts had been turning in circles like these ever since Bakura had first made his reappearance. He _knew_ his siblings would be horrified if they ever discovered who Marik was seeing, but he cared too much about Bakura to let that stop him. Every time Bakura left, Marik wound up feeling as if he was walking around without his innards.

He cared too much about Bakura to let him walk away again now.

Marik's eyes narrowed. "If I'm coming with you, you need to tell me the truth."

Bakura arched a brow. "You think I would ever lie to you?"

"I'm sure you have in the past."

"Never," Bakura snapped, his eyes hardening and his face set. "I have _never_ lied to you, _Ishtar_ , and I'd thank you not to throw such accusations at me."

It was Marik's turn to look surprised. His mouth twitched a little with amusement. "You're a self-confessed thief, scoundrel, and criminal, but calling you a liar is off-limits?"

Bakura glared. "A thief has his honour."

Marik's lips quirked upwards. "Alright. I'm not calling you a liar. But you'd better not lie to me."

"I wouldn't."

"No stealing from me, either."

Bakura narrowed his eyes. "Oh, that's hardly fair."

"I mean it." Marik fixed him with a stern violet stare. "My gold is _mine_."

"But…"

"No buts, Bakura. You can go and steal from tourists, or passersby, or whoever else takes your fancy, but my gold is _mine_."

Bakura made a face. "Spoilsport."

"Shut up." Marik glanced upwards, thinking. "And I get to decide where we're going."

"What?" Bakura glared.

"You heard."

"This was _my_ idea in the first place!"

"Yes, and if I'm coming with you, then we do things my way." Marik smiled sweetly. "Unless you'd rather I stayed here…"

"You are such a spoiled brat," Bakura fumed.

Marik shrugged lightly, his eyes twinkling. "Not my fault you fell for me."

Bakura's glare merely darkened even further.

"And you have to give me until tomorrow before we leave," Marik added as an afterthought.

Bakura's eyes narrowed. "First thing in the morning."

Marik looked pointedly towards the setting sun, which was so far below the horizon by now that the sky was already staining deep blue. The stars winked out above them. "That's only a few hours away."

"Exactly."

Marik rolled his eyes. "I need more time to get my stuff together."

"Make do." Bakura's smirk was back at his lips. "And mind you don't bring too much. I travel light, and I travel fast."

Marik lifted a brow. "Oh? And I'm expected to follow you?"

"If you know what's good for you, you will," Bakura purred. "Not many can escape a hoard of guards as easily as I can."

"You'd better not leave me behind."

"As long as you can keep up."

Marik's eyes narrowed, his lips turning thin, but Bakura reached out and gripped his arm. "Idiot. Of course I wouldn't."

Marik's face cleared and he nodded, satisfied. A small grin tugged at his lips. "I'll see you in the morning, then."

"Don't be late."

…

Morning broke quietly at the Ishtar residence. As the sky turned pale pink again with the colours of dawn, the sun just peeping up over the horizon, the house was quiet, peaceful, and unmoving. Not a whisper stirred the air. In the kitchen, on the table, placed under the spice rack, sat a small, innocent-looking note with a few words printed out neatly. The first person to rise, a tall man with a kind face, discovered it on his way to the kettle. His eyes read over the words, at first turning wide, but then his face settled into an odd sort of calm and a smile pulled at his lips. He would tell their sister later; for now, he allowed the calm to continue laying over their house.

At that exact moment, several miles away, Marik climbed up to the top of a sand dune and turned his face towards the sun. It glistened on his golden hair, baking his brown skin a darker shade, and making his violet eyes glow. The faintest of breezes rustled his clothing, moving his hair in soft strands around his clear, warm expression. For just a moment, he allowed himself a true smile.

A shadow soon covered his. A cool hand reached out and gripped his elbow, a low, dark voice in his ear. "I told you, we have to keep moving."

"I know." Marik turned, and his smile remained on his face as he regarded the cool expression of the figure beside him. "I'm just enjoying the dawn."

Bakura arched a brow. "Why? We'll see many more."

"Because it's pretty." Marik smirked. "You're a thief; I thought you'd appreciate that."

Bakura snorted. "It's the only reason I'm keeping you around."

"Oh, sure." Marik wound his fingers around Bakura's and leaned closer into his side, turning his face up towards the glowing sky once more. "We both know that's a lie."

Bakura merely grunted in response. He did pause, however, and allowed Marik another moment to watch the sun. The light did gleam quite nicely as it glanced off his blond hair, after all, and Bakura couldn't deny that he liked the way Marik's eyes lit up when he smiled.

The moment passed, and the two travelled on, the world spreading out before them.


End file.
